A Million Little Things--A Novel

by Susan Mallery

  They talked for the next hour. Zoe had to put Lulu on the cushion next to her so she could take notes. She knew that Pam worked with women entrepreneurs, but she’d had no idea her friend was so good at brainstorming. By the time Pam had gone through her list, Zoe had filled several pages with ideas and things to research.

  “Thank you for this,” she said earnestly. “You’ve given me so much to think about.”

  “I’m glad. This was fun for me. You’re the one who has to do the hard work.”

  “It will be fun,” Zoe told her. “I’m really excited to get started.” There were dozens of suggestions she never would have come up with on her own. “I appreciate all your time.”

  “My pleasure. I’m glad you asked when you did. I’m going to be out of town for a long weekend with my girlfriends and I wanted to make sure we talked before then.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Phoenix. These are the women I cruise with. We’re meeting on land this time.” Pam grinned. “I’m not sure how that is going to go.”

  “You’re so busy. Your work at Moving Women Forward, your travel friends, your life here.” Zoe felt boring by comparison.

  “Babysitting,” Pam added, “although not when Jen and I aren’t speaking.” She sighed. “I should call her. Despite everything, I miss her and I need to see my grandson.”

  Zoe put down her notepad. “Do you think there’s something wrong with Jack?”

  “No. He’s fine. He’ll talk when he’s ready.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m the only one Jen trusts to look after Jack. He’s adorable, but she makes it so hard. You wouldn’t believe the rules she has. He’s on a very rigid schedule, there are food restrictions. I can only run the dishwasher at certain times because of the soap.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Pam sighed. “She worries about the soap she uses in the dishwasher, so it can only run after he’s in bed at night. Soap is huge in her life. Once I used the wrong detergent in the washer and she was furious.”

  “I don’t think I’m ready for motherhood.”

  “Trust me—it doesn’t have to be that complicated. I love my daughter, but honestly, she needs to take a chill pill.” Pam frowned. “No one says that anymore, do they?”

  “Not really.”

  “I’m old. I’ve embraced it.”

  Zoe rose. “Thank you again for everything. I have so much to think about.”

  “I’m glad I could help. Let me know what you decide.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  * * *

  Pam couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to The Farm Table. The upscale restaurant prided itself on all things local and organic. They even kept a couple of pigs to eat the table scraps. Jen would be impressed, she thought with a smile as she handed the valet her car keys.

  Pam and John had come here occasionally, but it hadn’t been one of their regular places. They preferred to dine more casually. Still, it wasn’t the kind of restaurant she would go to with girlfriends, so she would enjoy the experience.

  Before she could give her name to the hostess, she spotted Miguel.

  The man had style, she thought, taking in the dark shirt and darker blazer over black jeans. His hair and beard were neatly trimmed, his skin tanned. He looked elegant. She had no idea what he wanted to talk about but that didn’t matter. She was going to have a nice dinner with an interesting man. She would have fun and then return to her regularly scheduled life.

  “Pamela.” He crossed to her and took her hand in his. “You look lovely.”

  “As do you.”

  She’d decided on a dress and heels. Things she rarely wore. She’d taken extra time with her makeup and in the process had realized she needed yet another session with her BOTOX person. The frown lines were back. Pam didn’t consider herself particularly vain, but fighting time was definitely an ongoing battle. BOTOX and lots of antiaging skin care products were her personal army.

  “Our table is ready,” Miguel told her. He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  Pam rested her hand in the crook of his elbow and together they followed the hostess to their corner table.

  Despite the fact that it was midweek and off-season, the restaurant was relatively crowded. Pam knew from a few previous experiences that the menu was set for each night and the kitchen frowned on substitutions—all fine with her. She was up for a culinary adventure.

  They had barely taken their seats when their server—a young man in his twenties—appeared with two glasses of champagne. A couple of cranberries and a sprig of rosemary floated in each.

  “To prepare your palate for tonight’s meal,” he told them. “Welcome.”

  “This is going to be fun,” Pam said as she held up her glass.

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  They touched glasses, then drank. The herb added a nice earthiness to the sweet bubbles.

  “Zoe tells me you have a small dog, as well,” he said.

  “I do. Lulu’s a Chinese crested. Do you know what those are?”

  He thought for a second. “The hairless, rock star dogs?”

  Pam laughed. “That’s her. She has to wear clothes to protect her from the cold and the sun, but I’ll admit, I do take things to the next level. She has an entire wardrobe. With all my children grown, it’s fun to be shopping for someone small.”

  “You have a grandson. Isn’t he small?”

  “Yes, but it’s not the same. I hate to say it but boy clothes just aren’t that interesting. Lulu lets me indulge my inner Disney princess.” She sipped her champagne. “What about you? Mariposa is lovely, but not exactly what I would have expected from a man like you.”

  He laughed. The sound was low and appealing. She found herself wanting to laugh with him.

  “A few years ago, when I started to travel less for work, I decided to get a dog. I wanted a midsized dog. I went to see a breeder about a boxer puppy she had. She also bred papillons. It was summer and I was sitting on the grass. The boxer puppy couldn’t have been less interested, but Mariposa came right over and climbed on my lap. She was so tiny, but very determined.” He raised one shoulder. “It was love at first sight. I took her home that day.”

  “She’s adorable.”

  “We’ll have to get our girls together.”

  “I’m sure Lulu would like that.” She smiled. “Have you always lived in Mischief Bay?”

  “I did when Constance and I were first married. Her family had been here for years.”

  “Constance?”

  “Zoe’s mother. My ex-wife.”

  Pam knew that Zoe’s mother had passed away not long after John had died. But being married was different from being divorced, so saying “I’m sorry” seemed odd.

  “How old was Zoe when you and Constance split up?” she asked instead.

  “Eleven. I’m sure divorce is always hard on the children but we tried to make it as easy for Zoe as possible. We stayed friends.” He picked up his glass. “Constance was a lovely, kind person. We simply had nothing in common. I wanted to travel the world and have exotic adventures. She wanted to live where she had always lived, seeing the same people, doing the same things.”

  “Plus there were all those young women in bikinis,” she said before she could stop herself. Not that the Saldivar tequila ads were a secret.

  One corner of his mouth lifted. “They were a temptation, I’ll admit. But I was never unfaithful to her, if that’s what you’re asking. Of course, once I had my freedom, I took advantage of the landscape.”

  Pam wondered what that would be like. To have sex with dozens of different men she barely knew. She honestly couldn’t see the point. She wondered how much of that was because she was a woman, how much was about her age and how much was because she’d only ev
er been with one man. John had been her one true love. Being with him, sexually, socially or any other way, had been wonderful. She was grateful for the time they had together. A string of meaningless encounters sounded awful by comparison.

  “I’m not going to ask what you talked about,” she said with a laugh. “I’m sure none of it was about conversation.”

  “It wasn’t.” He studied her. “You’re not going to scold me?”

  “Why would I? It’s none of my business. There is something about your gender, though. My son-in-law is a detective with the Los Angeles Police Department. His partner is a man who’s fifty. According to Jen, he hasn’t dated a woman over the age of twenty-five. It’s definitely a man thing. Women want more than a pretty face and a firm body.”

  “You wouldn’t date a twenty-five-year-old?”

  She grimaced. “Hardly. I have children older than that. I couldn’t be less interested.”

  “I have to agree with you,” Miguel told her. “In the past few years, I’ve found my interests turning elsewhere. As you said, I need someone I can talk to as well as make love with.”

  There was that voice again, she thought as she felt a slight shiver. What a great evening! It was like dinner and a show, all in one. She was sure that Miguel had his pick of women and even if he’d given up the twenty-year-olds, she doubted he’d gone much older. Not that she was interested. But she had to admit, hanging out with him was fascinating.

  “Zoe must be relieved,” she teased. “At least your girlfriends won’t be asking to borrow her clothes.”

  He grinned. “That will please her. And speaking of men and women, I noticed Zoe spending time with your son. Did you have something to do with that?”

  “I might have given a gentle push.”

  “Steven seems like a good man.” Miguel’s mouth twisted. “Unlike her last boyfriend.”

  She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I know about Chad. Talk about a nightmare. I can’t believe how long he strung her on.”

  “He’s the one who should be strung up,” Miguel said. “She tells me to stay out of it, but she’s my daughter.”

  “Of course you feel protective. Steven’s father passed away two years ago. While Steven had always planned to take over the company one day, he hadn’t thought it would be for years.”

  She thought about those dark times, how she’d been devastated to the point of being unable to function. “He was there for me, for all of us. John’s death changed him. I think Zoe’s lucky to have him.”

  “Said with a mother’s love.”

  “I like to think I’m offering an independent opinion.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  He smiled at her. It was a great smile—full of charm and promise. When he looked at her, it was as if he was genuinely interested. A woman could get used to that kind of thing.

  She knew that he was simply being who he was—an actor of sorts. A man used to being the center of attention. His job would have required him to have social flair and he’d been incredibly successful.

  Their server appeared with their first course. Delicate scallops on greens with a blood orange reduction. The champagne was replaced with a sauvignon blanc.

  “Do you still miss your husband?” Miguel asked.

  “Yes, but it’s different now. I have a full life I enjoy very much. Friends, my children, my grandson. I have my work at MWF. When John first died, I found it hard to breathe.” She picked up her fork. “That sounds so dramatic when I say it now, but I assure you, it was true at the time. I couldn’t do anything. For thirty years, I’d been John’s wife. Without him, who was I?”

  “How did you overcome that?”

  “For a while I wasn’t sure I ever would. I can’t describe what I went through. Just moving forward, living my life, I couldn’t do. I was faking being alive every day for the sake of my children.”

  How odd, she thought. While she didn’t keep her past a secret, she wasn’t usually so open with someone she barely knew. There was something about Miguel that she trusted, she supposed. Or maybe it was the way he looked at her, as if every word was incredibly important.

  “You are a strong woman,” he murmured.

  “No, I’m not. Or I wasn’t.” She hesitated, then put down her fork and lowered her voice. “We’d booked a cruise before he died. Afterward, I didn’t remember until our boarding passes turned up in his email. I was stunned. I didn’t know what to do. At first I was going to cancel, but then I realized the cruise was the perfect escape.”

  “Escape?”

  “From the pain. The emptiness. If I couldn’t go on, then I wouldn’t. I decided to kill myself. Throw myself off the ship. My children would think it was an accident, and while it would be hard on them, they would get over it.” She shook her head. “It’s funny when I say the words now. They seem so surreal and ridiculous. But I meant them at the time.”

  “You obviously changed your mind.”

  “I did. I met three wonderful women who were also widows. We became friends. I saw beautiful sights and began to understand that I could keep moving forward, even without John. I recognize the irony of the fact that deciding to kill myself was when I started healing. I love him, of course. I’ll always be John’s wife, but I’ve found my way without him.”

  She tilted her head. “Oh, my. I haven’t told many people what my real plans were for the cruise. I’m not sure why I told you.”

  “I will keep your secret, Pamela.” His dark gaze was steady. “You are an impressive woman.”

  She laughed. “I wish that were true. I’m ordinary at best.”

  “Far from that. I’m sure the men you date tell you that.”

  “Men?” Was he kidding? “There aren’t any men.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because. I’m a grandmother. I’m not interested in that sort of thing.”

  “We’re all interested in that sort of thing. Besides, you’re a young woman.”

  “I’m fifty-two.”

  “I am nearly sixty. We have many years ahead of us.” His expression turned quizzical. “You really aren’t seeing anyone?”

  “No. Seeing someone?” She shook her head. “I don’t date. That would be ridiculous.”

  Miguel studied her for a second, then pointed to her plate. “You should try the scallop. It’s delicious.”

  The rest of the meal passed quickly. Pam refused the last two glasses of wine. She wanted to make sure she could drive home without a problem. The food was excellent, the company even better. Miguel entertained her with stories of his travels. They talked about their children when they’d been young. She was shocked to find that it was nearly midnight when they finally left the restaurant.

  “Lulu is going to be very unhappy with me for leaving her alone for so long,” she said as they waited at the valet station for their cars. The night was cool and dark and they were the only ones standing there.

  “The leftovers will go a long way to soothing her feelings,” he told her.

  Pam laughed. “I suspect you’re right. Lulu is very sweet, but she’s not exactly emotionally deep.”

  “I had an enjoyable evening with you tonight,” he said.

  “I did, as well. Thank you again for dinner.”

  “So how was it?”

  “The meal?”

  “The date.”

  Pam opened her mouth, then closed it. “D-date?” Her mind went totally blank.

  “When a man asks a woman to dinner with the idea of getting to know her better, it is generally called a date.”

  “I don’t date.”

  “So you said earlier, but as you have just been on one, I’m going to have to say that you are wrong.”

  “I... You...”

  The valet drove up with her SUV
, saving her from babbling more. A date? She’d thought he was going to ask her to help him buy Zoe a present or something. But come to think of it, shopping for his daughter had never come up.

  He walked her around to the driver’s side of her car and tipped the valet. Before she could figure out what to say or do, Miguel leaned in and lightly brushed his mouth against hers.

  “Good night, Pamela. I’ll call you in a few days and do my best to convince you to go out with me again.”

  As she had no reply for that, she got into her car, closed the door, waved and drove away. It was only when she was safely home and soothing a miffed Lulu with bits of duck and scallop that she allowed herself to consider the fact that she very well might have just been on a date. The realization left her feeling guilty and uncomfortable and maybe just the tiniest bit excited about seeing Miguel again.

  Chapter Eight

  Thursday Zoe showed up with a box of scones and high hopes for her afternoon with Jen. She was also a little nervous, as this was their first post-intervention meeting. While Jen had been friendly enough in their recent texts, maybe all wasn’t forgiven and forgotten.

  She tapped lightly on the front door. Seconds later, Jen opened the door. The two women stared at each other, then Jen rushed forward and hugged her.

  “I’m sorry,” Jen said. “For not being a better friend.”

  “I’m sorry, too. I should never have come over with your mom. It wasn’t right.”

  Jen stepped back and shut the door behind Zoe. “I get why you did it. I’m so focused on Jack all the time. Everyone is telling me to lighten up. I get what they’re saying, but hearing the words doesn’t make me any less scared about how he’s developing.”

  “I was wrong to judge,” Zoe said, and meant it. Sure she thought Jen was overly involved, but that wasn’t her call. She thought about mentioning her second thoughts about the intervention but didn’t see the point. Not only would it be throwing Pam under the bus, but she had in fact showed up. Therefore she had at least half the blame.